Shadows of the Past
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: After the Joker and Harley Quinn get into a fight over Batman, Harley gives Joker a beating that knocks him unconscious. When he wakes up, he doesn't remember who the Joker is, recalling instead a life as a man named Jack Napier. Harley is desperate to figure out if this is a horrible joke, or if she really has lost her Joker forever...thanks to Eric Border for the suggestion! :-)
1. Chapter 1

**Shadows of the Past**

The night had started off like any other for the Joker and Harley Quinn. Joker had planned a comic crime for Batman to foil, kidnapping several hostages and holding them prisoner at the factory that produced his Joker toxin. The hostages would be slowly gassed with the toxin, laughing themselves to death, until Batman showed up to save them…which he did, naturally. Unfortunately for Joker, Batman was on a tight schedule that night – he had several other supervillains planning simultaneous crimes also involving a potential threat to innocent people, so rather than a long, drawn-out battle with Joker, Batman merely freed the hostages and then immediately set off to stop the other crimes.

All of which resulted in Batman trying to escape the Joker's clutches, dragging him across the ground as he clung to his leg shouting desperately, "No, Bats, you can't leave! Beat me! Thwart me! Foil me!"

Harley had rarely seen a more sickening display, and she hated it. She hated her lover's bizarre obsession with Batman anyway, but she especially hated it when it made Mr. J act all needy and pathetic. That was Harley's way of acting around him, but it was all wrong to see Mr. J act that way around anyone.

"Bats, no! No! Come back! Hurt me!" cried Joker as Batman managed to free himself and flew off into the night at last, disappearing into the shadows.

Harley sighed heavily. "C'mon, Mr. J, get up," she snapped, holding out her hand to help him up. "He's gone."

"All that work for nothing," muttered Joker, climbing to his feet. "All that kidnapping and trap-setting, and he doesn't even fight me. It's like he doesn't care sometimes, Harley. He could at least show a little appreciation."

"Yeah, you could too sometimes," agreed Harley.

"I think I show him I appreciate him a lot – all of my crimes are based around getting his attention," said Joker.

"I meant appreciate me, Mr. J!" snapped Harley. "Me! Your girlfriend! Not some random nutjob in a bat costume!"

"You watch what you say about Bats, you little brat," snapped Joker.

Harley sighed heavily. "God, this obsession is getting outta hand," she muttered. "Y'know, when I was your shrink, Mr. J, I thought that you hated Batman because you resented what he did to you at Ace Chemicals. I mean, he's basically responsible for your existence as the Joker, and for you forgetting your entire past. I thought you wanted revenge on him for that."

"Why would I want revenge on him turning me into the Joker?" asked Joker, puzzled. "I love me. And whoever I used to be can't be as great as I am now. I don't really wanna remember a past where I wasn't the handsome, talented, hysterically funny clown I am today. I don't resent Bats at all – I'm really grateful to him. He gave me a purpose in life, somebody to fight every night, somebody who understands me…"

"I understand you, Mr. J," interrupted Harley.

"No, you don't," he retorted. "You just said you thought I resented Bats and wanted revenge. You were always a crap shrink, Harley. Always wanted to see me as the poor, innocent victim – no wonder it was so easy to twist your mind, you dumb blonde."

Harley bristled. "You didn't twist my mind," she snapped. "I chose to be your Harley Quinn because I love you! And I want to help you in any way I can! I thought I'd be helping you get revenge on Batman for what he's done to you, but clearly you don't really want that! You'd rather thank him instead!"

"Yeah, and don't you thank me every day for making you into Harley Quinn?" demanded Joker. "Don't you thank me for making you into what you always should have been, for drawing out the natural tendencies for homicide and violence that you buried deep inside you for years and years? That's what Bats did for me too! So yeah, I'm a little grateful to him, as you should be for me, you little brat! Without him, I'd probably still be some boring do-gooder or two-bit criminal instead of the insanely comic genius I am! And without me, you'd still be wasting your life as a shrink in Arkham, rotting away with all the other freaks and weirdos without having half as much fun! So I'd appreciate a little less lip from you in the future, Harley. You owe me everything, and you should be grateful I've kept you around as long as I have, not criticize me for my interactions with Batman, which are frankly none of your business."

"None of my business?" repeated Harley. "I'm your girlfriend, Mr. J! It's my business when my boyfriend makes a complete fool of himself by groveling to another man! My boyfriend groveling to anyone makes me sick!"

"Well, now you know how I feel about your pathetic displays toward me," retorted Joker. "All your agonizing attempts to seduce me and beg sex outta me – it's as much a turn-off to me as that is for you."

"So you're saying they're right?" demanded Harley. "All those people on the internet, and speculation in the papers? The way you feel about Bats is the same way I feel about you. Do you try to beg sex outta him when I'm not looking?"

Joker struck her a harsh blow across the face. "How dare you, you useless waste of space?!" he roared. "How dare you of all people say that to me?!"

"Because I'm the only one with the guts to say it to your face," retorted Harley, glaring at him. "The only one who ain't afraid of you. But then maybe nobody would be if they'd seen you pleading with Batman earlier."

Joker hit her again, and Harley retaliated. She grabbed her hammer and struck him in the face with it, hearing it crack satisfyingly across his nose. Joker roared in pain, and then leapt forward to seize her, knocking her to the ground. She kicked out, knocking him back and then leaping to her feet with one swift movement, hammer in hand again as she brought it down hard against his cheek. Joker's fist shot out, colliding with her jaw, and she fell back, winded. Joker was on her again, his hands tightening around her throat as he throttled her. Harley struggled to breathe, stretching out for her hammer just out of her reach…

And then she grabbed it, smashing it down on the top of his head. She combined this with a strong kick upward which sent Joker flying over her head…and off the ledge behind her.

Harley instantly knew she had gone too far. "Mr. J!" she shrieked, struggling to her feet and racing to the edge, looking down. Joker had landed on a pile of empty boxes, which had broken his fall, but it looked like that combined with the hammer blow had knocked him unconscious.

"Oh, he's gonna kill me when he wakes up!" she hissed, racing down the stairs. " _If_ he wakes up! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Mr. J, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for it to go that far, it just escalated so quickly and got outta hand…"

She reached him and checked his pulse, sighing in relief at the fact that he was still alive. "Thank God," she whispered, lifting up his unconscious body and carrying it over her shoulders. "Let's get you home and bandaged up."

They had had fights like this before, thought Harley, many, many fights, but she had never been so aggressive as to knock him off a roof. One of their fights had resulted in Harley being thrown out of a window and all of her bones broken, and she sincerely hoped, as she bandaged his wounds at the hideout, that the same wouldn't be true for him. She had attended medical school, and there didn't appear to be any long-term damage done to his physical frame anyway. And that was a huge relief, she thought, as she gazed upon his calm, expressionless face. She loved him madly, she really did, even if their relationship wasn't ideal. And she couldn't have lived with herself if she had been responsible for any permanent damage to him, the only man she ever loved.

She felt him stir, and smiled, planting a kiss on his lips. "Wakey wakey, puddin'," she purred.

He opened his green eyes and stared at her strangely. Harley had never seen that look in his eyes before – it looked almost as if he didn't recognize her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, stroking his hair back. "You had a nasty fall."

"I'm feeling…fine," he stammered, still looking at her with that same unfamiliar expression. "Just fine. Um…who are you?"

Harley stared at him, and then laughed. "I'm Harley, puddin'," she replied. "Your Harley Quinn, remember, who loves you madly? Geez, that must have been some bump on the noggin I gave you. Either that, or this is all some joke trying to scare me for treating you like that…"

"Harley Quinn?" he repeated, puzzled. "Is that why you're dressed up like a clown?"

"Um…yeah," said Harley, slowly. "But I mean…you're the real reason for that, puddin'."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking around strangely as if he had never seen their hideout before. He suddenly caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and let out a cry of horror, rushing over to it.

"Oh my God…what's happened to me?" he gasped, touching his face.

"You had some injuries from the fight, puddin', but nothing serious…" began Harley, reassuringly.

"Nothing serious?" repeated Joker, turning to her in horror. "I look like a clown!"

"Uh…yeah, but you always look like a clown, Mr. J," said Harley. "You're the Joker, so…"

"The Joker?" he repeated. "Who's the Joker?"

"You…are," said Harley, staring at him. "Mr. J…this ain't just some sick joke of yours, is it? You seriously don't remember who you are?"

"I know who I am," he retorted. "What I don't know is who that grinning clown in the mirror is!"

"So…who are you, then?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Jack Napier," replied the Joker. "My name is Jack Napier."


	2. Chapter 2

Harley gaped at him in astonishment. "Jack Napier?" she repeated. "Who…who's that?"

"That's who I am," he retorted, firmly. "Jack Napier. I remember everything about my life very clearly, except…" He frowned. "Except…the recent past is very hazy. I was at…Ace Chemicals and there was…some guy in a Bat costume who…accidentally knocked me down into a vat…I remember falling down, down, down…but that's it. That's the last thing I remember before I woke up here. Wherever here is," he said, looking around. "This place is hideous. All these grinning clown images everywhere. I hate clowns. They creep me out. Which is why I want to know which practical joker did this to my face, with the makeup and everything. Was it you?" he asked. "You got some on your face too…"

He reached up a hand to try to rub what he thought was makeup off his face. And Harley saw him begin to panic when he saw that nothing was coming off in the mirror. "Oh…my God," he stammered. "This…this isn't makeup, is it?"

Harley shook her head. "It's…what happened to you because of the chemicals," she whispered. "It's permanent."

"Oh God!" he gasped. "Oh God, I look ridiculous! I can't walk around with a face like this! What will people say? What will Jeannie say? She won't want me after this! No woman would want a clown-faced freak!"

He buried his face in his hands, and then looked up at her. "Where is Jeannie?" he asked.

"Who's…Jeannie?" asked Harley, slowly.

"My wife," he said. "Where is my wife?"

"Wife?" repeated Harley, horrified. "But…but no, no, you ain't married, puddin'!"

"Of course I'm married!" he snapped. "I remember my wedding day very clearly! We got married in a little chapel in Gotham, and honeymooned in Niagara Falls. Jeannie always wanted to see Niagara Falls."

"No, _I_ always wanted to see Niagara Falls!" shrieked Harley. "That dumb broad stole my honeymoon idea and my man! Doncha remember me at all, Mr. J?" she asked, desperately. "Your Harley girl, who gave up everything for you? Who gave up her job and her sanity to help you bust outta Arkham…"

"Arkham?" repeated Joker. "Arkham Asylum? I've never been to that horrible place."

"Oh yes, you have!" snapped Harley. "That's where we met! You can't have forgotten that! You can't have forgotten…me…"

She trailed off at the blank look in his eyes. "Mr. J, please," she whispered, touching his cheek. "Please stop pretending. Please just let this all be a joke. I won't even be mad. I just want my Joker back."

She leaned forward to kiss him, but he gently shoved her away. "Look, I'm…sorry," he stammered. "I don't know who you are. But I'm a married man, and I can't just…I mean, clearly there are some gaps in my memory, and clearly if I…didn't remember who I was, I might have…led you to believe…that there might be something between us. But I _am_ married, and I love Jeannie. I don't know what's been going on since I fell into the chemicals, because I can't remember any of it. But I can remember my life before then very clearly, and I love my wife. I couldn't just…I'm sorry."

"But…but you're my Joker, puddin'," whispered Harley, tears in her eyes. "My Joker."

"I…don't know who that is," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I'm Jack Napier. If I can find Jeannie, I can prove it. She'll recognize me, even like this. She vowed to always love me, for better or for worse…I need to find her," he said, heading for the door.

"But puddin', it's the middle of the night!" exclaimed Harley.

"I know this city like the back of my hand – I grew up here," he said. "I know where our house is, and if she hasn't moved…"

"Wait for me, puddin' – I'm coming with you," said Harley, racing after him. "You're not yourself, and I can't leave you alone if you suddenly snap outta this. You got people out there looking for you, the cops and the Bat…you're a wanted man!"

He paused. "Wanted?" he repeated. "What am I wanted for?"

"You're…you're a criminal, puddin'," said Harley. "We both are, we…we commit crimes, for fun…"

"Fun?" he repeated, incredulous. "Since when is that a good motive for a crime? Maybe if you're starving or desperate, but…to be a criminal for fun…that's crazy!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Harley. "Yes, it is! Because we're both crazy, puddin'! Remember? We got a mad love! And the only reason to do anything is for fun, and the only way to feel alive is to be insane! You taught me that!"

Joker ran his fingers through his hair. "I've been…insane?" he stammered. "I…guess that explains why I was in Arkham…God, it must have been terrible! Thank goodness I've regained my sanity and my identity at last! And…you were in Arkham with me?" he asked.

"Yeah, puddin', remember? I was your shrink," said Harley.

"So…you'll know…did anyone ever come to see me there?" he asked. "Did Jeannie ever come? She must have, she wouldn't have left me alone in that horrible place, she loves me…"

Harley shook her head slowly. "You never had any visitors, puddin'. You didn't remember who you were, and neither did anyone else."

Fear shot into Joker's eyes, which was an equally bizarre thing to see in them as nonrecognition. "Oh my God, something must have happened to her!" he whispered. "Otherwise there's no way she would have abandoned me! Something terrible must have…"

He raced out the door without another word. "Puddin', wait!" shrieked Harley, running after him. "Wait for me!"

She followed him as he ran through the pelting rain, through the glistening streets until at last he stopped in front of a ruined building. It showed signs of fire damage, and stood blackened and empty against the darkness.

Joker clapped a hand to his mouth. "No!" he gasped, racing inside the empty building. But it was deserted. "No, Jeannie! Where are you?! Oh God, what on earth happened to our home?!"

"Puddin', come out," said Harley, grabbing his arm and dragging him back outside into the rain. "That house isn't safe – it could collapse at any moment."

"Do you think she got out?" gasped Joker, desperately. "Do you think she's safe somewhere else? Or do you think she…"

He choked, and Harley saw tears trailing down his face, mingling with the rain. This was definitely not an act, she realized with a lurch of agony. Mr. J was a good actor, but even he wouldn't be able to cry over an imaginary woman.

"Hey! People are sleeping here!" shouted an old lady from a neighboring window. "Stop all that shouting!"

"She's awake - maybe she'll know what happened to Jeannie," began Joker, hopefully, racing toward the neighboring door.

"Hang on, puddin'," said Harley, grabbing his arm. "You're kinda…recognizable. Let me handle this."

She wiped off her clown makeup and let down her hair, and then knocked on the door. "Decent people are trying to sleep, y'know!" snapped the old woman, when she opened the door a few moments later.

"I'm real sorry to bother you," said Harley, sincerely, putting on her most innocent face. "But I was looking for…the couple who used to live in that house, and I was wondering if you knew what happened to them."

The old woman's face fell. "I knew 'em," she said, nodding. "Nice couple, really in love, y'know? You could just tell from their eyes, from the way they looked at each other. Tragic what happened to 'em."

"Oh yeah?" asked Harley, trying to control her jealousy.

"He disappeared one night," continued the woman. "She was frantic. Searched everywhere for him, but he never came back. Wasn't the type to just abandon her or anything, so something bad must have happened to him. Not too uncommon here in Gotham for people to run afoul of some criminal or another. And then there was the fire a few months after, destroyed everything she had left of him and their married life. Tragic."

"But she…survived the fire?" pressed Harley.

"Oh yes," said the old lady. "Went to live in some other part of Gotham, and never came back. Can't say I blame her – too many memories here."

"Do you know where exactly she went?" asked Harley. "I'm her…uh…third cousin twice removed and I really wanna find her."

The old lady shrugged. "She didn't tell me. Maybe you should check with the cops. Always a good place to start when you're searching for missing people in this town. Not saying she's dead or anything, but you never know in Gotham. A lotta bodies turn up at the GCPD, although his never did. She went there every day to check, but they never found his body."

"Well…thanks," said Harley, nodding at her. She returned to the Joker, who was pacing.

"Well?" he demanded.

Harley repeated what the woman had told her. "Ok, let's go to the cops," he said.

"We can't, puddin'," retorted Harley. "They'll think this is a joke – you're kinda known for those. They'll just lock you up in Arkham again, and you'll never bust outta there if you ain't thinking straight. Or at least, ain't thinking like my Mr. J does."

"But we have to find her!" said Joker, desperately. "I have to know what's happened to her! She's the love of my life! When the whole world seems crazy and unfamiliar, you need the love of your life to restore balance, and make you see sense again!"

"Yeah, you…sure do," agreed Harley, slowly, tears in her eyes.

She took his hand. "Look, puddin', we've had a long night. Why don't we go home and sleep on it, and tomorrow, if you still ain't feeling better, we'll do everything we can to find Jeannie. We got a lotta friends who can help, we got connections all throughout Gotham, and if worst comes to worst, we got a guy who never fails to find missing people – Batman."

"Batman?" repeated Joker. "The man who did this to me?" he said, gesturing to his face.

"Yeah, but he's always there for you in a crisis," said Harley. "You guys are buddies."

Joker stared at her. "I…I really did go crazy, didn't I?" he whispered. "I must have completely lost all sense of reason or rationality. What kind of insane person would be buddies with that freak in a bat costume? And you…you must be crazy too, otherwise why would you be with me?"

"Because…I love you, puddin'," stammered Harley. "I love you."

He snorted. "How could you love a crazy person? How could anybody? How could…Jeannie ever…"

He choked on a sob, and Harley tried to comfort him, a mixture of pain and fury burning inside her. If she heard Jeannie's name one more time, she might scream. The idea that Mr. J had been married before he met her, to a woman who he described as 'the love of my life,' which he never described Harley as, made the very mention of her name like a dagger in her heart. But sleep would help, she reassured herself. In the morning, he was gonna be his regular laughing, happy, crazy self. He just had to be.


	3. Chapter 3

After a pretty uncomfortable, sleepless night on the sofa, Harley snuck back into their bedroom early the next morning, climbing into bed next to Joker and cuddling him gently. He stirred, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly, and Harley let out a sigh of relief, smiling.

A smile that abruptly fell as he murmured, "Jeannie," in his sleep. She felt tears come to her eyes again at the realization that her Mr. J was still missing, but determined to put on a brave face.

"Morning, puddin'," she whispered, kissing him.

He opened his eyes. "You're…not Jeannie," he stammered, pulling away from her suddenly. "Where's my wife?"

"That's what we're gonna find out, puddin'," said Harley, soothingly. "I'm Harley, remember?"

He stared at her. "I…I thought that whole clown thing had been…a horrible nightmare. But it's not, is it?"

"No," said Harley. She forced a smile. "I thought this whole Jeannie thing had been a horrible nightmare, so I guess we're even!" she laughed.

He continued to just stare at her. "That's…a joke," she said, slowly.

"Joke?" he repeated. "You think this is an appropriate time for jokes? You think this is funny?"

"Well…you always used to say that anytime was an appropriate time for jokes, especially an inappropriate time," said Harley, slowly. "And you used to try to make everything funny. It was…one of the things I loved most about you, your sense of humor."

Joker shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm just…not in the mood for jokes," he muttered, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

Harley wiped her eyes, thinking she'd never see the day when she heard those words out of Mr. J's mouth. This was much worse than she thought. This Napier guy was a huge stick in the mud – maybe it was because of the whole missing wife thing, but Harley wished more than ever that her Joker would come back. He had to be in there somewhere.

Joker emerged from the bathroom at last, fully dressed. "I…noticed in the shower that it's not just my face that's been affected by the chemicals," he said. "It's…everywhere."

"Yeah," said Harley, nodding. "I think you look beautiful, puddin'."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, another look that would never be seen in Mr. J's eyes. Then he cleared his throat. "Um…can I ask…how many times have we…have I…cheated on Jeannie?"

"Uh…I dunno, puddin'," said Harley, slowly. "I didn't exactly keep count...uh...a lot? I mean, it doesn't really count as cheating if you didn't know you were married, and you never talked about her or anything, so it's not your fault...you didn't know and I didn't know, so it's sorta…ok, right? I mean, I ain't the kinda girl who…I mean, if I had known, we would never have…"

"No," agreed Joker. "I never would have either."

He drew his eyes away from her. "You'd better…uh…get dressed too. Ain't really right, a married man with a scantily clad woman in his bed who…ain't his wife."

"Oh…yeah, sure," said Harley, slowly, climbing out of bed. She forced a smile. "That Jeannie's a lucky woman – I'm sure she knows that. Clown or not, I mean, you're just…gorgeous."

He forced a smile too. "I hope my wife sees it that way," he agreed.

Harley cringed again at the word 'wife,' which was just as bad as 'Jeannie' in terms of pain. She grabbed her clothes from her closet and then hurried into the bathroom to change, slamming the door and trying not to give into despair.

She had just finished putting on her clown makeup when there was a knock on the door. "I'll get it!" cried Harley, racing out of the bathroom. She opened the door and beamed in relief. "Red!" she cried, throwing herself into Poison Ivy's arms. "I'm so glad you're here! A friend in need is a friend indeed, and I'm definitely a friend in need!"

"Oh God, what's that miserable excuse for a man done now?" sighed Ivy.

"He doesn't remember who he is, Red!" cried Harley.

Ivy stared at her. "Well, he's never remembered who he is, Harley…"

"No, no, no, I mean, he _does_ remember who he is, and who he is ain't the Joker! He doesn't remember he's that! But he claims to remember this entire past life as this guy called Jack Napier, and he…he claims to remember that…that…he's married, Red!" she sobbed, bursting into tears.

"Harley, this sounds just like one of his stupid jokes," said Ivy, soothingly. "You shouldn't believe him. Have you two been fighting?"

Harley nodded. "Yeah. Had a real doozy of a fight last night – I knocked him on the head and then off a roof."

"So he's clearly just punishing you for that," said Ivy, nodding. "By pretending he doesn't remember who the Joker is, so you'll appreciate him more when he finally pretends to snap outta it. Well, I'll snap him outta it right now – nobody treats you like that on my watch," muttered Ivy, storming inside.

The Joker saw her and then started back in shock. "Oh my God!" he gasped. "What's…what's wrong with your skin?"

"Nothing's wrong with my skin – this is how all human beings should look if they were perfect enough to attain harmony with plant consciousness, as I have," retorted Ivy. "As you know very well, J, so stop this ridiculous act right now before I hurt you."

"It ain't an act, Red – look at him!" sobbed Harley. "He don't know who you are, just like he don't know who I am!"

Ivy sighed. "Harley, it's sad that I know your boyfriend better than you," she muttered. "But here's a clue – his name's the _Joker_! You can't take anything he says seriously, which is one of the many reasons why I think you're crazy for staying in a relationship with him! Now c'mon, J – this isn't fooling anyone except Harley, and you treat her badly enough as it is. There's no need to torment her more with this stupid game."

"I'm…sorry, I don't understand," stammered Joker. "This isn't a game, and I…I would never mistreat a woman."

Ivy gaped at him. "Ok, if that's meant to be a joke, it's not funny!" she snapped. "I've personally seen you hit Harley at least a hundred times, and so has everyone else in Arkham! How dare you pretend to be some innocent man who wouldn't dream of harming a woman?!"

"Because I am!" he retorted. "I'm…not that kind of man! I have never laid a hand on a woman in anger…at least, not when I've been myself, my true self! I understand that I have been temporarily insane, but I promise you, those actions were not under my control! Nothing I have done while I was this…Joker has been under my control! And now that I've regained my sanity, the only thing I want is to be reunited with my wife and be left alone to forget I was ever some crazy freak!"

"Puddin', please don't say things like that!" sobbed Harley. "You ain't a crazy freak! Y'see, Red? It's just like I told ya! He's just not himself, and I dunno if he ever will be again!"

Ivy thought for a moment, and suddenly raised her fist, punching Joker hard across the face. He reeled back, gasping in pain, and Ivy hit him again. "C'mon, hit me back!" she snapped. "You won't let yourself be beat up by a woman, especially not me. Your pride will make you fight back sooner or later – even this stupid game can't be more important than your ridiculous ego, and what would harm your ridiculous ego more than to know a woman beat you up? C'mon, hit me!" she repeated, punching him again.

"Red, no!" shrieked Harley, trying to hold her back from attacking Joker. "No, don't hurt him! He's lost and confused and…he doesn't understand!"

"I'm…I'm so sorry for anything I've done to upset you," gasped Joker, cowering on the floor in front of Ivy. "But please…please don't hurt me anymore."

And that was the moment Ivy was convinced this whole thing wasn't an act. The Joker would never beg her, a woman, and a rival of his, not to hurt him anymore. If anything, he would provoke her until they were in a full-scale fight – there were few things the Joker enjoyed more than causing and receiving pain. This was definitely no act.

"He's been like this since last night?" she asked, quietly.

"Yeah," said Harley, nodding. "Oh God, Red, what if I've lost my Joker forever?! What if he's gone for good and it's all my fault?! I dunno what I'll do!"

She choked on a sob. Ivy's immediate reaction, on the other hand, was to be pleasantly surprised by this turn of events. In her view, this was a stroke of luck for Harley in the long run, although she didn't realize it yet. If the Joker had regained his sanity and wanted to settle back down as a family man with his wife, that left Harley free to take charge of her own life rather than spend it trapped in slavery to some abusive creep.

"Look, I'm…sorry," Ivy said, slowly, kneeling down next to Joker. "I didn't mean to hurt you – I just needed to make sure you were telling the truth. But I'm here to help, I promise you. Where is this wife of yours?"

"I…I don't know," stammered Joker. "We went looking for her last night but we couldn't find her. The house…we used to live in had burned down, and the neighbor said she'd moved, but I don't know where."

"What's her name?" asked Ivy.

"Jeannie," he whispered. "Jeannie Napier."

Ivy nodded, straightening up. "I'll ask around," she said. "Among the other supervillains and everyone…we'll find her. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes," gasped Joker. "Yes. More than anything."

"Harley? Is that what you want?" asked Ivy, turning to her friend.

"I…I wanna help Mr. J," stammered Harley. "However I can. I…I love him. Even if he ain't…the same man I fell in love with…I still love him."

And as much as Ivy was pleased by Joker's personality shift, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for Harley. Joker was clearly obsessed by the idea of this wife of his – the moment she was found, Harley would be out of the picture. But what choice did she have?

"I'll ask around," repeated Ivy, hugging her. "I'll report back soon with any information. In the meantime…take care of him."

"I always do," said Harley, forcing a smile. Ivy left them, and Harley helped Joker up onto the sofa.

"God, is everyone in this town crazy?" he gasped, feeling his cheek where Ivy had punched him.

"Pretty much," agreed Harley. "All the people we know are anyway. Great minds…" She trailed off.

"What?" he asked.

"I…I just had an idea," she said. "Would you be…willing to subject yourselves to a few psychological tests? I used to be a psychiatrist, y'know, and this form of reverse amnesia and dual personality is pretty unique. Maybe studying it could help advance our understanding of how the mind works."

"I'd be happy to help, but first I have to find Jeannie," he said, firmly, standing up. "We're wasting time just sitting here…"

"Mr. J, if you go out there in broad daylight, you'll be arrested on sight and locked back up in Arkham with the key thrown away," snapped Harley. "And then you'll never be able to find Jeannie. The best thing you can do right now is wait here and trust Ivy and the others to do the searching. I'll send our henchmen out the moment they get here too. I know it's hard, but we have to be patient if we want to get the people we love back. We both do," she muttered under her breath.

He gave a resigned sigh, burying his face in his hands. "C'mon, lemme make you some coffee," said Harley. "You'll feel better after a hot drink and a big breakfast."

There was only one thing for it, thought Harley, as she entered the kitchen. She knew her Joker was still in that mind somewhere – he just needed to be found again, as this other personality of Jack Napier had been. Well, Harley was a shrink, and her job had been to get into people's minds and draw out their darker sides. She was going to do the same thing for Mr. J by any methods necessary, hopefully before anyone in Gotham could find Jeannie. Otherwise her Joker would be lost to her forever.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well? How is he?" asked Harley, standing up as Jervis Tetch re-entered the room, shaking his head.

"Not good, not good," he muttered, holding up some scans. "This is a previous scan of the Joker's brain. And this is his brain currently. As you can see, completely different parts of it are lit up, stronger, more focused. The synapses are working in different ways, and certain memories which were previously inaccessible have been accessed. His entire personality has shifted – parts of the brain which were previously untouched are now lit up stronger than ever. Empathy, compassion, love, and so forth. Whatever you did to him, it's completely transformed him into a whole other person."

"You ought to be congratulated, my dear," said Jonathan Crane, who had been sitting with Harley scanning old psychology textbooks. "You've accomplished what thousands of Arkham doctors never could. Not only have you cured the Joker, but you've allowed him to regain his memory of his life before the accident. You've proven yourself the most capable psychiatrist who ever lived."

"Yeah, they should all just go around whacking people on the head," muttered Harley, glumly. "That'd get results, but not the kinda results I wanted. Oh God, what have I done?"

"I agree with Jonathan – honestly, this is more of a blessing than a curse," said Tetch, sitting down next to them and pouring a cup of tea. "You can have a nice, normal life with him now that he understands these previously unknown, natural, human feelings."

"There's just one problem with that – he don't have those feelings for me," snapped Harley. "I ain't his wife. And because he's Mr. Do-Gooder now, he don't want any woman but his wife. The moment she's found, I'll be dumped like a ton of bricks. It's my nightmare come true, Mr. J wanting another gal – it's the worst possible thing that ever coulda happened, and I'm responsible for it."

She picked up the scans. "But…I mean…Mr. J's still in there, right?" she asked, holding it up. "You can…find a way to bring my Joker back, a genius like you."

Tetch stirred his tea thoughtfully. "In _Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There_ , she encounters the Red King asleep and wonders what he's dreaming about. Tweedledee insists he's dreaming about her, and Tweedledum adds that if he wakes, she'd go out –bang! - like a candle."

Both Crane and Harley stared at him. "And this is relevant how?" demanded Harley.

"Because, my dear, we do not know which personality is the real Joker," said Tetch, gently. "Perhaps this Jack Napier is his long buried true self that has been sleeping, dreaming in the Joker's brain, and has now finally woken up. Which would mean the Joker has gone out – bang! – like a candle. Perhaps the Joker was never real at all, but just a thing in the Red King's dream, a figment of his imagination, a creation of Jack Napier's insanity…"

"No, I won't believe that!" snapped Harley. "I know Mr. J, and I know he's real! It's this Napier guy who's the impostor! And we gotta get my Joker back, we just gotta!"

"Any news on Jeannie?" asked Joker, entering the room at that moment.

"Nothing yet, puddin'," said Harley, rushing over to him. "Why doncha go relax - we'll let you know as soon as there's any word."

"I should be out there," he muttered. "I shouldn't just be sitting here with a buncha machines when I don't know where my wife is."

Harley was clearly having a hard time trying not to be upset, and Crane mercifully interceded. "I was wondering, Mr. Napier, if you would be willing to distract yourself from your worries by taking a small psychological examination. I am a doctor of psychology and a former professor of the subject, and cases like yours could be used in future for the betterment of hundreds of lives."

Joker nodded. "Anything's better than just waiting around and thinking," he muttered. "Not knowing is the worst state of mind there is."

"It sure is," agreed Harley.

"Harley, you're welcome to conduct this yourself – he's a former patient of yours and I wouldn't presume to intrude…" began Crane.

"No, it would just…bring back memories for me, Johnny," said Harley. "Memories that…I don't wanna remember right now. You go ahead – I'll watch," she said, sitting down.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Napier, or lie down, if you prefer," said Crane, gesturing to the sofa. Joker obeyed. "I want you to try to clear your mind of all thoughts, and just tell me the first words that pop into your head when I say the following: wife."

"Jeannie," said Joker, instantly.

"Love."

"Jeannie."

"Life."

"Jeannie."

"Purpose."

"Jeannie."

"Stop asking him words that relate to Jeannie!" snapped Harley.

"Sorry, I don't know him well enough to know what triggers that," replied Crane, apologetically. "Let's try a different tact, Mr. Napier – Batman."

"Lunatic," said Joker.

"Robin."

"Bird."

"Nightwing."

Joker looked at him, puzzled. "I'm…sorry, I don't know what that is. Darkness, I guess?"

"Poison Ivy," continued Crane.

"Rash."

"Two-Face."

"Dishonesty."

"Scarecrow."

"Straw. I'm sorry, I don't see what help this is," said Joker. "These are just random words that don't tell you anything, do they?"

"They tell me that your memory of your time as the Joker is completely gone," said Crane with a sigh. "Or at least, it's not repressed into your subconscious in a way that can be drawn out with stimuli. The Joker's responses to those things would have been far crueler. Unless straw is an insult for something I haven't picked up on yet."

"No, Johnny, it's him," said Harley. "He don't remember anything about being Mr. J. Or anyone."

The door opened at that moment and Poison Ivy strode in, followed by Two-Face. "Actually, he probably remembers her since she beat him up this morning," said Harley. Joker wasn't staring at Ivy, however – he gazed at Two-Face, horrified.

"Good God, how is this man still alive with wounds like that?" he gasped.

"Just lucky, I guess," muttered Two-Face. "It doesn't look that bad to a total stranger, does it, guys?"

"You look fine, Harvey," snapped Ivy.

"Did you find anything out?" asked Harley.

"Not really," sighed Ivy. "It's harder to find people in this town than you'd think, especially without the law's help."

"Yeah, interrogating randomers really doesn't seem to work," agreed Two-Face. "Kinda fun though."

"Anyway, Harley, Harvey and I were talking, and we think…you should maybe get Batman involved," said Ivy, slowly. "He's the best at finding missing people, and his interrogating random people seems to get results."

"You're saying this Batman lunatic can help?" asked Joker. He shrugged. "I might have my doubts about lunatics, and I can't say I'm eager to see him again after what he did to me, but by all means, if it means we find Jeannie quicker, get him involved!"

"Red, can I see you for a moment, please?" asked Harley.

Ivy followed her into the kitchen, where she shut the door. "Red, I can't do this," Harley whispered, tears in her eyes. "If we get the Bat involved, he's gonna find Jeannie for sure. And I'm gonna lose Mr. J forever…"

"Harley, surely finding her is better than just waiting around like this," said Ivy. "Anyway, you might get lucky - she could always be dead. But isn't it better to know? There's nothing worse than uncertainty, I've always thought. Even if the worst happens, if Bats finds Jeannie and she and J go off together, surely that's better than seeing him like this?"

Harley glanced out at Joker's haggard, worried face. "But…I love him," she whispered.

"Do you love him enough to let him go?" asked Ivy, gently.

Harley shut her eyes. "Even…even if we get the Bat involved, there's still time, isn't there? To…to find Mr. J in there, to draw the Joker outta him again…I mean, just because Jervis and Johnny can't doesn't mean I can't…I love him, and he…loved me, and surely that's gotta be stronger than whatever's wrong with him…"

"Sure, Harley," said Ivy. "But should I tell Selina to ask Bats to look into this Jeannie Napier thing?"

Harley took a deep breath, glanced out at Joker again, and then nodded. "Go for it, Red."


	5. Chapter 5

That evening, Harley had changed into her red nightie in an attempt to look her most irresistible. She glanced in the mirror, pulled the straps down to her shoulders, and nodded. "Well, here goes," she whispered, crossing her fingers.

Harley had never had much confidence in her sexuality – any attempt to display or assert it around Mr. J had usually met with disinterest at best, and being booted out of the hideout at worst. But she didn't know what else to resort to at this point. Surely reminders of their intimacy, an intimacy Mr. J had never shared with anyone else, would wake up the Joker buried inside him and bring him back to his old self. Surely their love could conquer all.

Joker was in the living room watching TV, or rather, flipping channels obsessively in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts. Harley crept into the room behind him and began massaging his shoulders. "Hey, puddin'," she purred. "Feeling a little tense?"

"Of course I am," he muttered, not looking up from the screen. "My wife is missing."

"Y'know, your Harley girl could probably help you release some of that tension, if you get what I'm saying," she murmured. "Relax those big, strong muscles of yours, especially one big, strong muscle, which is my favorite. You want me to get the whoopie cushion?"

"Whoopie cushion?" repeated Joker, turning to stare at her in confusion, and then immediately covering his eyes. "Oh my God, you're not dressed."

"I am, just not leaving much to the imagination," said Harley, grinning. "C'mon, puddin', doncha wanna rev up your Harley?"

"Did you actually…used to say things like that to me to try to turn me on?" asked Joker, slowly.

"Yeah," said Harley, nodding. "Doncha remember, puddin'? We used all kinds of jokes and gag items and innuendos. Rev up your Harley, have a slice of Harley pie, play dunk the clown, beat the rubber chicken, blow the slide whistle…"

"Yeah, thanks, I get it," interrupted Joker.

"If you wanna, I can go splat some cream pies over my boobs and anywhere else you wanna lick off…" purred Harley, leaning down to nuzzle his neck, but Joker gently shoved her away.

"Look, this is not…something that's gonna interest me, ok?" he said. "I just can't imagine…why a clown fetish would ever be attractive to anyone."

"Well…it was sorta our thing, puddin'," said Harley, slowly. "Our special thing that nobody could understand. We shared the same clown theme in all aspects of our lives."

"Good to be consistent, I guess," sighed Joker. "But don't you have any higher ambitions than engaging in some weird clown fetish for the rest of your life?"

"Uh…no," said Harley, slowly. "You didn't used to either…"

"Yes, but now that I've got my life back, you should take control of yours again too," he replied. "I'm really sorry for everything I did to you, however I convinced you to stick with me and this clown thing, but now you don't have to be stuck like that anymore. You can be free to do anything you want…"

"I want to be with you," whispered Harley. "That's the only thing I've ever wanted. I've done the career thing, the whole strong, independent woman shtick, and that didn't make me happy. I ain't that type of girl. I wanna be tender and loving and caring and look after the man I adore. That doesn't mean I ain't strong – I'm just a different type of woman whose ambitions are more nurturing. I ain't stuck, or if I am…I've chosen my rut, and I'm happy in it."

He nodded. "Then I'm even more sorry that I can't…return your affections the way you want. But I am married…"

"Yeah, you keep saying," agreed Harley, sighing. "I just kinda hoped I could change your mind…"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "But if it's any consolation, you remind me of my wife in that way. Nurturing, caring, loving…I must have a type, even when I'm completely insane," he said with a smile.

Harley smiled back. "She's a lucky woman, like I said," she repeated. "You're just…great."

"And I'm sure you'll find someone else to love you the way you love me," he continued. "In time."

"I doubt it," replied Harley. "Nobody loves you the way I do. Mr. J is my true love, and that only comes around once in a lifetime. Our love was mad and crazy and…perfect for us. Did you feel that about your wife? That she's your soulmate?"

"Yes," replied Joker. "The first moment I met her, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

"You did, huh?" asked Harley, feeling her heart breaking again. "That's…nice for her. But do you think she could have loved you the way I loved you, when you were the way you were? Do you think she could have felt that way about a homicidal maniac? I'm the only woman in the world who could have loved everything about my Joker, no matter what. She wouldn't have stood by you, so she can't be much of a soulmate, can she? If she ain't there for better or worse, I mean."

"Nobody should be forced to stand by a homicidal maniac," replied Joker.

"Nobody forced me to," retorted Harley. "It was my choice."

"I'm not sure…Jeannie will make that same choice," said Joker, slowly. "I'm not sure I want her to. I mean, after the things I've done as a homicidal maniac, and the way I look now…I'm not sure I want her to be stuck with a monster like me. She deserves so much better, and so do you."

"I deserve you," said Harley, firmly. "I chose you, and fought for you through thick and thin. If she doesn't, she's not much of a wife. I didn't even make a vow to be with you through the good times and the bad, but I am."

He was silent. "Do you think…if your wife…won't stand by you because of the way you look and the things you've done, that maybe you and I might…have a chance?" asked Harley, slowly.

He looked at her. "You would want to stay with me even when I'm a completely different person to the man you loved?" he asked.

"But you ain't, puddin'," insisted Harley. "I know you ain't. Deep down inside you, somewhere in there…you're still my Mr. J. He's the real you, I know it, not this Jack Napier. Just like Harley Quinn is the real me, completely free and released from all chains of sanity. You saved me by bringing me outta my repressed personality of Dr. Harleen Quinzel. You did to me what the Bat did to you, and I get why you were grateful to him now. And now I gotta do the same for you, or you'll never be truly happy again. Not the way my Joker was. And my Joker was always happy."

"I was happy with Jeannie before all this madness," murmured Joker.

"No, you weren't," insisted Harley. "Not really. My Joker was smiling and laughing all the time, every day. Were you doing that with Jeannie?"

"Not all the time," admitted Joker. "But nobody can be smiling and laughing all the time unless they're insane. Life doesn't work like that."

"It does with true love," whispered Harley. "It did with our true love. I mean, we'd have fights and stuff, but…they always ended with laughter."

"Look, Harley, I…" began Joker, but he trailed off as a shadowy figure appeared at the window, stepping into the room carefully.

Joker shrank back from him in fear as Harley glared at him, covering herself with her arms. "What do you want, Bats?" she demanded. "Can't you see I'm a little busy here?"

"Is it true?" demanded Batman, ignoring her and studying Joker intently. "He doesn't know who the Joker is?"

"That's right, and I'm trying to fix him, so just beat it!" snapped Harley.

"I think you've fixed him enough already," retorted Batman. "You have my thanks, Harley. Joker being cured saves me a huge headache which I believed was permanent."

"He's not a headache!" snapped Harley. "He's the man I love!"

"Have you…found out anything about my wife?" stammered Joker, looking absolutely terrified at seeing Batman. That was another expression that never belonged on Joker's face.

Batman nodded slowly. "I'm not sure you'll like it," he said, holding out a folder to him.

Joker took it, opening it with trembling hands. "This is…a police report," he stammered. "For the…murder of Jeannie Napier. Oh…my God…no!"

Batman nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. She was murdered a few years back. By the Joker."

Joker shook his head, staring at the document. "There…there must be some mistake, she can't be…I couldn't have…why…"

He broke off as he turned over the page to reveal a postmortem photograph, and his eyes teared up in recognition. "Jeannie," he whispered, horrified. "No! No, no, no, I couldn't have…oh God, no!" he sobbed, collapsing on the floor and bursting into tears. "Jeannie! My beautiful, sweet Jeannie! What have I done?!"

"Puddin', c'mon, you didn't know…" began Harley, racing over to comfort him.

"I murdered an innocent woman!" sobbed Joker. "How could I have done something like that, especially to the woman I loved madly, to my own wife?!"

"Puddin'…" whispered Harley, but he shoved her away.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted. "I'm a monster! A monster! And no woman should ever touch me after this! No woman should ever forgive me for what I've done! Just like I will never forgive myself! My poor Jeannie!"

He raced off to the bedroom, slamming the door. Harley heard him sobbing and turned to Batman with cold eyes. "Well, I hope you're happy," she muttered.

"He had to know," retorted Batman. "And at least he feels guilt for his crimes now, as he always should have. That poor woman deserved justice, and he deserved the truth."

"So justice is ruining his life by making him feel guilty over a crime he didn't know he committed?!" demanded Harley. "Justice is ruining _my_ life by breaking Mr. J?!"

"You broke the Joker," retorted Batman. "And you have the gratitude of every decent human being in the world for that."

"I don't want their goddamn gratitude!" shrieked Harley. "I just want my Mr. J back!"

She too broke down in tears, falling to her knees and sobbing uncontrollably. Batman stared at her, wondering if he should try to say something comforting…but there was nothing comforting to say. The Joker being gone forever was a comfort to everyone else but her. It was just a shame that his destruction had to hurt one person so much. It was a shame that Harley had to destroy her own life to save the world.


	6. Chapter 6

"Puddin'?" asked Harley later, knocking on the door to the bedroom. She opened the door to see him curled up on the bed, staring at the photograph of his wife.

"She loved flowers and animals," he whispered. "She loved all living things. She loved taking care of people…and I killed her. I…killed…"

He choked on a sob, and Harley hurried over to him, holding him soothingly. "Puddin', you didn't know," she whispered. "It's not your fault…"

"It's completely my fault!" he snapped. "She'd still be alive if not for me! I…murdered the only woman I ever loved!"

He sobbed, and Harley said nothing. "You think…she's the only woman you ever _could_ love?" she asked at last.

He looked up at her. "I mean…it's awful, Mr. J, but she's dead…and she's been dead for some time…so maybe you can try to move on eventually. And…I mean…I ain't so bad, am I?"

"It's not a long time ago to me," he whispered. "The wound of her death is new, and raw. I can't just move on like that. I've already insulted her memory enough by being with you."

"Oh. Didn't know I was insulting anyone's memory by loving you," whispered Harley. "Silly me."

She stood up to leave, but he caught her hand. "Look, you're…a very attractive young woman," he murmured. "But…I don't love you. Not like I loved Jeannie…"

"But she's dead, puddin'," said Harley. "She's dead. And…you could try to love me like that, couldn't you? We could try…loving each other as we are. I mean, it wouldn't be perfect, but our relationship was never perfect, at least, not in the eyes of the world. But…you're all that I have. I can't lose you. I just can't."

"I lost the love of my life," he whispered. "I killed her, in a fit of insanity. I will never forgive myself for that, and I will never recover from that."

"You…don't have to recover," stammered Harley. "But you could try…going crazy again. That would make all the pain and memories disappear, just like it did the first time you became the Joker. I can show you, help you, drive you mad the way you drove me mad. And maybe I can have my Joker back, and all the bad memories and feelings will go away. Things will be back to normal. Well, maybe not normal, but…the way they used to be."

"I can't, Harley," he whispered. "I can't. Just leave me alone to deal with this pain. I can't run away from what I did, and I deserve to suffer for it."

Harley nodded, and left him, returning to the living room. She didn't know how long she sat alone there, but the daylight faded and turned to night, and he didn't emerge from his room.

She opened the door again at last to see him curled up on the bed, sniffling. Seeing him in tears broke her heart, and she hurried over to him, holding him tightly and comforting him.

"It's ok, puddin'," she whispered. "It's ok…"

And then he was kissing her, planting desperate, needy kisses all over her face and throat and onto her mouth. Harley shut her eyes in pleasure, but opened them again as he whispered, "Jeannie."

"I…I ain't Jeannie, puddin'," she gasped, drawing away.

He stared at her. "I know," he whispered. "But I need you to be tonight. Will you do that for me, Harley? Will you let me be with my wife one last time?"

Harley drew a deep breath. This went against every fiber of her being and every atom of self-respect, but so did having sex with another man but the Joker, she reminded herself. Although this man was still technically the Joker, however much he didn't act like him. It wasn't strictly cheating, but...for tonight, they would both be different people. And they would worry about tomorrow when it came.

She nodded slowly. "Yes, Jack," she whispered. "Yes, I will."

He let out a sob of relief, burying himself in her arms, his fingers and mouth and body gentle and tender and full of boundless love. Harley had never felt anything like it.

She had never had sex with anybody but the Joker before. And she didn't like it, even if he technically _was_ the Joker. Jack's love-making was soft and tender and gentle, and while the Joker had had his moments, their love primarily wasn't about that. Harley felt deeply unsatisfied as she lay in Jack's arms afterward, which wasn't something she ever felt with the Joker.

For the first time, she began to question whether she really could stay with him if he wasn't her Joker. If she could really stay with a man she didn't really love, even if he did outwardly resemble the man she loved madly. If she actually wanted to waste her life being someone else, not her true self as Harley Quinn, but rather a substitute wife for Jack. She was happy to give up everything for the man she loved, but if Jack wasn't it, if Mr. J wasn't in there, but gone for good…

And she couldn't see a future with him as a regular family man. Harley had always wanted to settle down and have kids with the Joker, but this man wasn't the Joker. She had no idea if she wanted a family with him. She didn't even know who he was.

Neither of them had fallen asleep, and Harley suddenly reached for Joker's cigarette case on the bedside table, offering one to him. "No thanks – I don't smoke," he said.

"Oh," she said, about to put it down, but then taking one for herself and lighting it. "Neither do I, but it's been a rough week," she muttered, inhaling and coughing uncontrollably.

She took another drag on the cigarette, only coughing a few times. "You ever do anything bad, Jack?" she asked.

"Aside from murdering my wife and then cheating on her memory by asking another woman to pretend to be her? No, I don't," he replied.

"That's ok. I was imagining you were my Joker," she murmured. "So we're even."

"And this is the kinda relationship you want?" he asked, looking at her. "Meaningless sex where we just imagine we're two different people?"

"No," she retorted. "That's not the kinda relationship I want. I want my Joker back. And you want Jeannie back. But since both those things are pretty impossible, maybe we'll just have to settle for what we can get."

He was silent. "I don't like…having used you like this," he murmured. "No woman deserves to be used for her body…"

"It's fine – I'm using you for my Joker's body," she interrupted, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "People don't always get what they deserve – you taught me that. Your wife didn't deserve to die, but she did. I didn't deserve to lose my Joker, but I did. That's just life. It's crazy and random, like my Mr. J. It's why being with him always made everything make sense. Now nothing makes sense, and I dunno what to do."

"Believe me, Harley, if I could be that man again, I would," he murmured. "I would give anything to be rid of this pain, including forgetting the man I used to be and the life I used to know. We both want the same thing now."

"You'd forget Jeannie," reminded Harley. "Would you want to live like that?"

"Better than remembering that I killed her," he replied.

"I guess that's true!" laughed Harley. She fell silent. "Sorry, that's not…funny. Although my Joker would've thought it was."

Tears came to his eyes again. "I really was a monster, wasn't I?" he whispered. "I suppose it's some consolation to the world that he's gone forever."

He stood up. "I'm…gonna get a shower. Try and wash some guilt off, not that it'll do any good."

"Kay," said Harley, finishing her cigarette as Joker entered the bathroom. She made a face as she put it out. "Dunno what Mr. J saw in that. Doesn't even relax ya, and makes your mouth taste like you swallowed an ashtray."

She dressed back in her red nightie and headed into the kitchen for a glass of water, and then returned to the bedroom, climbing back under the covers and trying not to think about what to do next. Her entire future was called into question now – this Mr. J probably wasn't going to commit crimes or fight Batman anymore, which left Harley hanging at loose ends. If her future wasn't serving Mr. J, what on earth was she supposed to do with her life?

She was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a crash and a bang from the bathroom. "Puddin'?" she called, instantly concerned. She threw open the door and raced in to see the Joker unconscious and lying in a pool of blood – he had clearly slipped and fallen in the shower and hit his head on the tap.

"Oh my God!" cried Harley, pulling him out of the shower and into the bedroom and examining the cut on his head. She carefully rinsed the blood off and saw that despite clearly hitting his head hard, the cut itself wasn't very deep. She was just considering taking him to a hospital despite the risks of getting re-arrested when the Joker suddenly groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

"Ouch, my aching skull," he muttered, feeling the bump on his head. "What the hell happened?"

"You fell in the shower and hit your head, puddin'," said Harley.

He stared at her blankly. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.

Harley stared back. "I'm…Harley, puddin'," she said, slowly. "Harley Quinn. Remember?"

"No," he replied, studying her up and down. Then he grinned. "I like what I see, though. Hot little number, ain't ya?"

"Uh…thanks," stammered Harley. "I mean, I'm probably nothing compared to Jeannie, but…"

"Who's Jeannie?" he interrupted.

Harley gaped at him. "Your…wife, puddin'," she said, slowly. "The one you've been so choked up about for days…"

Joker scratched his head. "Gee, I musta been drinking or something to tell you a whopper like that. Though that's kinda a crazy way to chat up a dame, telling her I got a wife. Still, it clearly worked!" he chuckled. "I ain't married, kid – ain't the type for it. Don't like to be tied down. Free and single, that's me. And frankly, my lifestyle ain't a good one to support a wife on."

"What lifestyle?" asked Harley.

"I lied and said I was married but didn't tell you the truth which is my normal pick-up line?" he asked, frowning. "Boy, I must have been completely trashed. I'm a gangster, kid. Hitman, to be specific. I must have bragged about what a good shot I am – the ladies love that. They also like hearing that a man's a criminal – I think they think bad guys are more exciting in bed. Well, I don't have to tell you, do I?" he laughed. "Hope you weren't disappointed in the performance, even if I did say some crazy things. I blame the alcohol. I have been drinking, right? That's why my memory of recent events is so hazy, huh?"

"Puddin'…is this a joke?" stammered Harley.

"Joke?" repeated Joker. "No. I mean, I got a great sense of humor, but there's no joke in a guy telling a gal he's married, or lying about being a criminal."

"But…I don't understand…who you are," stammered Harley. "If you ain't Mr. J…and you ain't Jack Napier…"

"I _am_ Jack Napier," he replied. "Hitman for the Valestra gang. And the last thing I remember is pulling a job at Ace Chemicals just before…some nutcase in a bat costume knocked me off a platform and into some weird green acid. Which might explain why my body's all white – dip in that must've had a nasty reaction to my skin!" he laughed. "Could've been worse, I guess – at least I'm alive. I must've got outta there somehow and then gone to drink myself into a stupor! And picked up a hot dame somewhere along the line – did we meet in a bar?"

"So you're not…married to Jeannie Napier?" asked Harley, slowly.

"I dunno who that is," he replied.

"Apparently…someone you've killed," Harley said. "Does that bother you?"

Jack shrugged. "I've killed all kindsa people, toots. What's one more?"

"And you're not an…innocent, nice guy…who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?" pressed Harley.

"Well, that's certainly what I would've told the cops if I'd got arrested!" chuckled Joker.

"And…you have done bad things in your life, huh?" asked Harley, slowly.

He grinned. "Tons of 'em, toots. You wanna hear all about 'em? Might get the mood back."

"No, I…I just need a moment alone to…think," stammered Harley, standing up. "To figure out what the hell is going on…"

"You and me both!" he chuckled. "Hey, you got a spare smoke?" he asked, noticing the burnt out cigarette in the ashtray. "I'm craving one."

Harley nodded, handing him the cigarette case. "Thanks, dollface you're a peach," he said, as Harley lit the cigarette for him. "You let me know if you're in the mood for round two when you get back. Or whatever round we're on!" he chuckled, slapping her bottom.

Harley left him chuckling to himself, no closer to understanding what in the world was going on in Mr. J's head, but much preferring this version of Jack Napier to the previous one.


	7. Chapter 7

"So…let me get this straight," said Poison Ivy the next day, as she, Two-Face, Jonathan Crane, and Jervis Tetch all gathered in Harley's hideout. "J bumped his head again, but rather than going back to J, he's suddenly got another personality as Jack Napier?"

"It's not unheard of in psychology, Pamela," replied Crane. "It's called Multiple Personality Disorder. Though usually it isn't triggered by merely bumping one's head – that seems rather imprecise and unscientific to me."

"Well, insanity is hardly precise and scientific anyway, Jonathan," replied Tetch. "It's irrationality and nonsense. Which is why I'm of the opinion that psychiatry is nonsense, trying to apply precise and scientific methods to something basically irrational and nonsensical."

"Well, the more I'm subjected to being analyzed by psychiatrists, the more I agree with you," replied Crane.

"So where is J?" asked Two-Face. "And when do we meet this other personality? And any bets on whether it's more or less annoying than the last one?"

"I liked the last one," said Ivy. "Y'know, he was kinda rude about the way we looked, but he seemed really sincere in his emotions and his feelings toward his wife. And as weird as it was to see J as a nice guy, at least you knew that one wouldn't abuse Harley. Can't say the same for this one yet."

"Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone – we were just…finishing up some stuff," stammered Harley, emerging from the bedroom and blushing bright red. She was followed closely by the Joker, who spanked her hard again before she sat down and continued to ogle her as he lit a cigarette.

"I like an enthusiastic gal with something to slap!" he chuckled. "In certain, select areas, of course – ain't a fan of fat chicks."

"Oh…God," stammered Ivy, horrified. "He's much, much worse!"

"Practically the old Joker back," agreed Tetch.

"Just in terms of the violence – he's a criminal, but he doesn't recognize the clown stuff at all," said Harley. "But in terms of the lack of moral center, yeah, they're pretty similar. This is also noteworthy," she said, nodding at the cigarette. "He told me before that he didn't smoke, but after his personality shift, he said he had a craving for cigarettes. So it's not purely a mental thing – it can affect physical desires and impulses. And Mr. J can take or leave cigarettes depending on his mood, so maybe his personality is like a blend of both? It's a working theory anyway."

"God, she sounds like a shrink, huh?" chuckled Joker. "Can't say brainy ever's been top of my list in a dame, but if she's any example of a smart girl, I'm changing the list!"

"Harvey, do you have any insight as someone with more than one personality?" asked Harley. "Is any of this familiar to you? Do you get different cravings when your bad side takes over?"

"My bad side's more about releasing my inhibitions," replied Two-Face. "So a little, I guess. Although my good side still craves what my bad side wants – it just won't admit it. But I can't say my memories have ever been affected – I always know what both my sides are doing. I'll just choose one or the other depending on what's feeling stronger that day."

"I sincerely doubt that's what the Joker's doing, since he would never choose to reveal an emotional, tender side," retorted Crane.

"So he has at least two personalities in there with him, maybe more," said Harley. "But I need to figure out how to get the Joker outta him. Obviously when Mr. J was in charge, he kept these all in check somehow, maybe just by forgetting about them. I need him back to take charge again."

"She does like me taking charge if last night's anything to go by!" chuckled Joker. "And just now!"

Ivy glared at Harley. "You slept with him?!" she demanded.

Harley looked uncomfortable. "Well, yeah…he's…my boyfriend, Red. So it's fine…"

"How could she have resisted, with such an unpleasant brute of a man?" asked Crane, dryly.

"Oooh, somebody's jealous!" chuckled Joker. "A few people, by the sounds of it. Y'know, sweetheart, you play your cards right, and if things don't work out with Harley and me, I'll give you a call," he said, winking at Ivy.

"I would rather cut off both my legs, and then eat them," retorted Ivy.

"I'm sure that can be arranged if you hang around me long enough!" laughed Joker. "So these are your friends, huh, dollface?" he asked, looking around the group. "Weird looking bunch, but who am I to judge?" he asked, gesturing to his face. "Harley tells me this clown look's pretty permanent, but apparently that doesn't eliminate my attractiveness, so who cares, right?"

"Honestly, Harley, he's very close to the real Joker," said Tetch. "Are you sure you couldn't settle for him?"

Harley glared at him. "I'm Harley Quinn!" she snapped. "I don't settle for anyone but my Mr. J!"

"You slept with him," pointed out Ivy.

"I was desperate!" cried Harley. "I mean, I had slept with the other one, and he was so unsatisfying that I just couldn't resist…you just don't know what it's like to make love with a tender, gentle man – it's hideous! Especially when you just want someone to punish you hard for being a real, bad girl…"

"I'll explain to you my dilemma, my dear, and you can tell me your decision," interrupted Tetch. "You see, while it's entirely conceivable that we might be able to find some way to switch between the Joker's personalities, we have no idea how many personalities he might have in total. The possibilities are literally endless. In which case the real Joker might be lost forever in a sea of differing personas, as different from him as night and day. That's assuming we can even find the Joker personality in there among the mess. The far safer, less riskier option is to just leave him like this – he's not obsessed with his wife as the last one was, and seems to be a criminal like you're used to, as well as being particularly keen on your physical charms," he added, as Joker's hand reached for Harley's bottom again.

"Seriously, have you all seen this ass?" he asked the assembled group as he fondled it. "I am a lucky guy!"

"Puddin', please, not in public!" hissed Harley, pushing him away.

"Yeah, if you like being sexually harassed all the time, he's the ideal man," sighed Ivy.

"I do like being sexually harassed by Mr. J," admitted Harley. "But it's weird that he's hot for me so much. I don't like that. I mean, who has the energy to be that attractive all the time?"

"Well, some of us manage," sniffed Ivy, tossing her hair.

"Could you try to get used to him?" pressed Tetch. "Because the alternative will require a lot of work on my part – trying to isolate the area of his brain that shifts between personalities, and repeatedly overloading it with stimuli as has happened the past two times he's been switched."

"Whaddya mean overloading with stimuli?" asked Harley. "I bashed him on the head, and then he bashed his head in the shower. You'd think it wouldn't have any effect on him at this point, with the way he gets beat up pretty constantly fighting Bats."

"Yes, my dear, which is why it's going to take a lot of work to determine the exact part of his brain and amount of force it takes to trigger these personality shifts," said Tetch. "We shall have to experiment. Or you could just accept this version of the Joker permanently."

Harley looked at Joker. "Could you accept an inferior version of Alice?" she asked Tetch at last.

"I could not," sighed Tetch. "Well, if that's your decision, we must get him to Arkham."

"Arkham?" repeated Two-Face. "Why?"

"Because I don't have that sort of mind-prying equipment on me," retorted Tetch. "It's dreadfully expensive, you know."

"It's a lotta work to bust a guy into a mental hospital," commented Two-Face. "A lot more work than busting him out."

"I did say it would be, didn't I?" retorted Tetch. "It would also be preferable not to be caught by the guards and locked away again."

"So…you want us to sneak Mr. J back into Arkham without anyone noticing, then have you play around in his brain for as long as it takes until you cycle through all of his possibly infinite personalities to find the real Joker and bring him back?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Precisely," said Tetch, nodding.

Harley nodded. "Ok, just checking that's the plan. What are we waiting for?"


	8. Chapter 8

"You guys have done an amateur job casing this joint," spoke up Joker. "Just saying. You sure you're all real criminals, and not just nutcases?"

"Believe me, we've cased it plenty from the inside over the years, Mr. J," retorted Harley. "You don't remember, but I busted you outta here not so long ago."

"What was I in here for?" asked Joker.

"Being crazy," retorted Two-Face. "Just like the rest of us. The clue's kinda in the name Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane…"

"Y'know, I often thought that if the cops ever caught me, I'd try to get off on an insanity plea," said Joker, thoughtfully. "Maybe this clown persona you keep talking about did just that. Maybe he's only pretending to be crazy to avoid jail or the chair."

"Maybe that's something we all do," retorted Ivy. "J's hardly original like that. Though I admit it would be hard to fake his type of insanity."

"The Joker does know how to commit to a gimmick, you've got to give him that," said Tetch, nodding.

"He used to," agreed Harley. "And I really miss that about him. It's weird for Mr. J to just look at you blankly when you ask him to blow the whoopie cushion…"

"Ok, let's not have Harley give us images that won't let us sleep later, and get to work instead," interrupted Ivy. She held up a walkie-talkie. "Johnny, how's the guardhouse looking from where you are?"

"The guard has just finished what I believe is termed a 'big gulp' soda, which should mean about a gallon of liquid is pressing urgently on his bladder," replied Crane from the walkie talkie. "I would surmise a bathroom break is in order shortly."

"Must be that PhD that makes him so smart," muttered Two-Face under his breath.

"I heard that!" snapped Crane. "I don't have to go through all this rigmarole if I'm only going to be abused for it!"

"Johnny, I really appreciate what you're doing for Mr. J," cooed Harley into the walkie-talkie.

"But she's still not gonna sleep with you," finished Joker. "That pie is all mine!"

"Oh God, I think I'm gonna be sick," muttered Ivy.

"Could everyone please be quiet – we're not invisible here, you know, and this isn't a sanatorium for the deaf!" snapped Tetch. He, Harley, Joker, Ivy, and Two-Face were all gathered behind the back wall of Arkham Asylum. Crane had been voted the lightest out of all the group, so he had been the one they had lifted rather unwillingly over the wall to scout out the current security measures.

There was a reason there were so many regular breakouts from Arkham Asylum, and that was because the security, despite head doctor Leland's frequent pleas to her staff and the city council, was notoriously lax. The guards, as might be expected, were less than enthusiastic about their job (that tended to happen when you risked being horribly murdered by the inmates every day) and so did as little work as possible as badly as possible. They couldn't be fired, since nobody else would take their jobs for even double the salary, so they basically did whatever they wanted. And what the guard in the guardhouse wanted at this particular moment was a bathroom break.

"He's gone," said Crane through the walkie-talkie as the guard headed into the asylum for the toilet. "You are clear to enter."

"Y'know, I woulda just shot the guard," retorted Joker. "But then I wouldn't be planning a break-in into a mental asylum. No profit in that. The loonies don't keep cash on 'em as far as I know, and even the doctors ain't stupid enough to carry their massive salaries around in their wallets."

"We're not doing this for profit – we're doing this so Harley is stuck with a different but equally annoying version of you," retorted Ivy.

"Yes, and it's dreadfully small-minded of you to only commit crimes for profit," commented Tetch.

"Why else would anybody ever commit a crime?" demanded Joker. "See, I told you, you people aren't real criminals! The only reason to break the law is for money, or to get ahead of your rival gangs somehow. Or occasionally for fun, but I don't see how breaking into a madhouse is any of those things!"

"Mr. J woulda thought it was fun," sighed Harley, gloomily. "Woulda said it'd be quite the joke, breaking into someplace we always broke out of…"

"See, you don't even need him, Harley – you already know what he'd say and do," said Tetch, hopefully.

Harley glared at him. "Jervis, we already agreed we'd do this. Now let's hurry up and get inside before the guard comes back."

They all hurried under the barrier and met Crane on the other side of the wall. "The window to the cell block is open," he said. "We can try sneaking in that way."

"What about the guards?" asked Harley.

"Lunch break," said Crane. "It's Saturday, remember? They all take their lunch en masse at noon."

"God bless those condemned to the routine drudgery of a schedule," sighed Tetch, as they headed around the corner of the building to the window adjacent to the cell block. "We'll need to head through the cell block to the intensive therapy room."

"Shouldn't be a problem – I doubt the guards will be cutting their lunch short," said Two-Face, checking his watch.

They climbed through the window and into the familiar confines of the cell block. It was relatively empty – only the Riddler sat in his cell, his brow furrowed in concentration over a sheet of paper with numerous figures on it. Tetch put a finger to his lips, trying to avoid Riddler's attention, and they all crept quietly down the hall through the cell block.

"What are you all doing here?" asked Riddler, suddenly, looking up.

"Edward, we…didn't notice you there," lied Crane, hurriedly. "We were just…heading to intensive therapy."

"Why?" asked Riddler.

"It's for a…science experiment," said Crane, slowly.

"Oh. Well, you'd better hurry," said Riddler. "Dr. Leland's going to be here any minute for the inspection."

"What inspection?" asked Crane.

"Some surprise thing set up by the mayor's office," replied Riddler, looking back down at his notes. "I've prepared some riddles for the occasion, but I doubt anyone in the mayor's party will be able to answer them."

"Great! We had to pick today to break in!" growled Two-Face.

They suddenly heard the door to the cell block open. "Quick, everyone, hide!" snapped Ivy.

"Where?" demanded Harley.

"In our cells!" she retorted.

"But they'll know we weren't there earlier!" protested Crane.

"That depends on how well we can all act," snapped Ivy, racing into her cell and shutting the door. The others followed suit, Harley shoving Joker into his and slamming the door before securing herself in hers.

A moment later, Dr. Leland strode into the cell block followed by a procession of men in suits. "While our cell block's a little bare at the moment, I can assure you that our facility is fully equipped to handle…"

She trailed off, staring into the cells at the familiar faces. "Jonathan?" she said, puzzled.

"Yes?" asked Crane, trying to look casual as he pretended he had just risen from bed.

"Have you…been here the whole time?" asked Dr. Leland, slowly.

"Why yes, of course I have," he replied, lightly. "It's not like I'd break in here for any reason, is there?"

"But…I could have sworn you weren't…" she stammered.

"I trust, Dr. Leland, that all patients who should be here are here," said the mayor, looking around. "That is your job, after all. And I, for one, am relieved that the likes of the Joker, Two-Face, and Poison Ivy are no longer on the loose to threaten our fair city."

"But…I don't understand…how…" stammered Dr. Leland.

"Hey! I'm a threat to Gotham too!" snapped Harley.

"And so is Jack Napier!" exclaimed Joker. "Don't tell me you chumps have forgotten him already?! The scourge of Gotham's gangland!"

"Jack Napier…what are you talking about, Joker?" asked Dr. Leland.

"I am also a threat to Gotham," spoke up Crane, changing the subject hastily. "And feel offended at being left out of your assessment."

"Yes, how rude of you to ignore half the room in your relief," snapped Tetch.

"Half the room…I don't understand…what you're all doing here," stammered Dr. Leland, baffled.

"I can give you the answer in the form of a riddle," spoke up Riddler. "But only if you can answer this riddle, which is actually what the answer to the first riddle is: if you know me, you'll want to share me. But if you share me, I'll be gone. What am I?"

"Well, let's move on," said the mayor, hastily. "Before we're forced to endure any more madness. Well done, Dr. Leland – everything looks under control here," he said, heading for the door with his colleagues following him.

"But…you…they…" began Dr. Leland, but then she shrugged. "Well, I don't know how it happened, but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth," she said. "Thanks for behaving, everyone."

"No problem, Joan!" said Harley, cheerfully.

"The answer to the riddle is a secret! It's a secret!" shouted Riddler after them, but the door to the cell block shut again, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Come on, let's press on to intensive therapy before we're faced with another surprise," said Tetch, opening his cell door.

"Aren't you all going to let me out?" asked Riddler as they headed out of the cell block.

They paused and shared looks. "Nah, sorry, Eddie," said Harley. "You'll only be in the way. You should probably just stay where you are. Think up some more riddles, huh?"

"That's really for the best – the more people we have, the more our risk of getting caught increases," said Tetch, nodding. "You understand, don't you, Edward?"

"But…" began Riddler.

"There's a good fellow," interrupted Tetch. "Come along, everyone."

They left the cell block by the door at the other end leading to intensive therapy, leaving Riddler alone. He glared after them, and then muttered, "Fine. I'll have my revenge. I'll ask them an impossible riddle, just you wait and see. That'll show them…"


	9. Chapter 9

"Here we are – intensive therapy," announced Tetch as he pushed open the door to reveal a room full of bizarre-looking machines.

"I've only been in here once before," muttered Two-Face, glaring around. "The shrinks wanted to scan my brain to find out if certain areas lit up more strongly when my bad side took over. I made them scan it twice just to be sure. Which turned out to be my mistake because it hurt like hell."

"Yes, unlike other scanners, the machines in here actually are invasive," replied Tetch. "But I suppose that's necessary when the brain is irreparably damaged – one must literally reshape it."

"Didn't do much for me except give me a huge headache," retorted Two-Face.

"Well, it should hopefully be able to undo whatever damage was done on the Joker's brain by the violence he's suffered," said Tetch, heading over to examine a machine.

"Wait, wait, wait, you expect me to just sit down and cooperate with that?" asked Joker, pointing to the machine Tetch was looking at. It was a chair with leather straps at the arms and legs, and attached was a dome that appeared to go over the head, with several needles poking out of it. "Sweetheart, you're hot, but you're not worth going through torture for. Sorry, I'm outta here."

"You're not going anywhere," growled Ivy, standing in front of the doorway. "Harley's getting her pathetic excuse for a boyfriend back the way he was, even if I have to beat you into unconsciousness myself. It would be a pleasure, whatever persona you have."

"Don't threaten me, toots!" snapped Joker. "I'm a dangerous man…"

"And I'm a crazy woman," retorted Ivy. "So please, just give me an excuse."

"Mr. J, you gotta do this if you wanna be right again," pleaded Harley.

"I'm plenty right!" snapped Joker. "I'm Jack Napier, notorious criminal and hitman! What's not right about that?"

"You're not my Joker!" snapped Harley. "And that's who you truly are, deep down inside, just like I'm Harley Quinn! And I know Mr. J's still in there somewhere, and we're gonna get him back. So sit down!" she snapped, pointing to the chair.

"Baby, as much as I love it when you're being forceful, I am not letting a bunch of lunatics stick needles in my brain!" snapped Joker.

"Yes, you are," retorted Two-Face, pulling out both his guns. "Do as the lady says, J."

Joker looked from Two-Face to Ivy, and then suddenly seized Harley around the waist, holding a knife to her throat. "I'm leaving here now," he snapped. "And I'm taking the doll with me."

"You're doing no such thing," retorted Ivy. "But you've just given me an excuse."

"Red, don't hurt him!" exclaimed Harley.

"Harley, when somebody's holding a knife to your throat, you're not meant to be concerned for their welfare!" snapped Ivy.

"Well, gee, Red, he threatens me with violence all the time, but I still love him," retorted Harley.

"If one could sum up the problem with your relationship in one sentence, that would be it," sighed Crane.

"I mean it – I'm leaving, so don't try anything funny!" snapped Joker.

Harley sighed. "Mr. J woulda laughed at that," she murmured. "God, I miss him. Having a knife held to my throat by anyone else just isn't the same."

"You both need to stand back now," snapped Joker, glaring at Ivy and Two-Face. "You think I won't cut her throat?"

"I think you will, but then I've always thought that someday," sighed Ivy. "The fact that we're going through all this effort to replace a violent psychopath with a slightly different violent psychopath is a horrendously unfunny joke that not even J would be amused by."

"He would if he were here!" retorted Harley. "And Mr. J would never cross the line by actually killing me. He loves me."

"Oh, when are you going to wake up, Harley?" demanded Ivy. "Even if you get J back, he's going to treat you as horribly as he's always treated you! You can't love a man who would hurt you on a whim, and you can't love a man who has so many personalities that he doesn't even know who he really is! If he doesn't even know, what chance have you got to really know him, and how can you love someone you don't even know?! You're wasting your life on a man so unstable that he doesn't even have a stable backstory, a man who is completely random and crazy and changeable! How do you know that one day he won't find you amusing anymore, and just decide to put you out of your misery?!"

"I'll tell you how I know!" shrieked Harley. "I know because he loves me! He loves me! And I do know who he is – he's my Mr. J! And I know him better than he knows himself, and well enough to know he won't be expecting this!"

She suddenly slammed her elbow back into Joker's solar plexus, knocking the breath from his body. Winded, he gasped and released his hold on Harley, enough for her to duck under his arm which held the knife, turn and face him, and then punch him hard in the face.

"That's for threatening me without meaning it," she snapped. "I ain't in the mood to be teased!"

Joker cupped his bleeding nose and opened his mouth to respond, when Crane suddenly jabbed a syringe into his neck which knocked him unconscious instantly.

"Thank you, Jonathan," said Tetch. "I'm sure he was going to get violent. That's the first and only reaction for a man like that."

"How are you gonna fix his brain if he's knocked out?" asked Harley as she helped Tetch drag him over to the chair and secure him.

"He'll be woken up shortly – it's difficult to remain unconscious when there are needles being stuck into your brain," replied Tetch. "What we have to do is use the machine to apply the same amount of pressure as both your hammer blow and the fall did in the exact same spot they both fell on. Which shouldn't be too hard to find since he's got a wound," he said, nodding at the cut in Joker's skull. "But it's a very delicate and precise operation."

"We also need to make sure it doesn't happen again," said Harley. "Can you insert a metal plate in his skull or something to shield the spot?"

"I'm not really a qualified surgeon, my dear…" began Tetch.

"I'll do it," volunteered Ivy. "I might kill him, but that's a risk we're gonna have to take."

"No, we won't," snapped Harley. She sighed. "Just…fix him first. And then we'll improvise."

"I'll certainly do my best," sighed Tetch, rolling up his sleeves. "Now let's see…"

The machine jolted, and so did Joker, whose green eyes snapped open as the machine began to beep and whir. "Mr. J?" asked Harley, hopefully. "You know who I am?"

"No," he replied. "Where's Jeannie?"

"Ugh, not that one again!" snapped Harley. "I hate this guy! C'mon, Jervis, shock him again."

Tetch obeyed, and Joker's body spasmed again. "Mr. J?" repeated Harley.

"Who's Mr. J?" asked Joker. "I'm known as the Red Hood, the most feared criminal in Gotham. Of course maybe the look could use some work – balancing a giant, red fishbowl over your head isn't the most practical thing in the world…"

"Keep going," interrupted Harley, nodding at Tetch.

He pressed the button again. "Joker?" asked Tetch, as his body stilled.

"Yep, that's me!" he said, cheerfully. "The Joker!"

"Oh, thank God!" exclaimed Harley. "I missed you so much, Mr. J!"

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm…your Harley Quinn, puddin'," she stammered. "Your girlfriend."

"Harley Quinn?" he repeated. "I don't know any Harley Quinn. Kinda a good gag, I guess, but frankly for a girlfriend, I think I can do better than you, sweetheart. But let me work on you a bit and see what I can do – I'm an artist, y'know. And maybe someday I can make you as hot as that Vicki Vale reporter – she's a fox. Hope she ain't seeing anyone or I'll have to kill them – never rub another man's rhubarb, that's my motto. Tell me, have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?"

"What the hell?" asked Harley. "This ain't my Mr. J! Jervis, shock him again."

Tetch obeyed. "Mr. J, please be you!" exclaimed Harley, as Joker twitched again.

"Well, who is 'me', really?" asked Joker, licking his lips. "I got a lotta different backstories. You wanna know how I got these scars? You should calm down, beautiful – why so serious?"

"Eurgh, no, this one's creepy," said Harley, pressing the button herself this time. "Mr. J, please come back!"

"Harley, is that you?" asked Joker.

"Yes, Mr. J!" cried Harley. "Yes, it is! Your Harley girl's here…"

"Why are you dressed like that?" he interrupted. "Shouldn't you be wearing practically nothing, and covered in tattoos?"

"Erm…no," stammered Harley. "This is…how I always dress, Mr. J. Classic jester costume…"

"It's a bit cartoony, wouldn't you say?" asked Joker. "I think you'd look better with less clothing, and more tattoos. I also have the sudden urge to get a forehead tattoo, with some kinda dark label so everyone knows how gritty and psychopathic I am. Maybe 'deranged.' Or 'disturbed.' No, 'damaged'! Damaged!"

"Oh God, no!" exclaimed Harley, slamming her fist down hard on the button. Unfortunately, in her haste to rid the Joker of that particular personality, she used more force than was necessary, and the button stayed stuck down.

Joker began lurching uncontrollably, babbling snatches of words and catchphrases as the machine began to spark, overloading itself. "You're gonna fry him – turn it off or get him out of there!" shouted Two-Face.

"I can't turn it off – it's stuck!" exclaimed Tetch, who was helplessly pressing buttons.

Two-Face growled, diving forward and reaching for the plug that attached the machine to the wall socket. He ripped it out, and the machine switched off. But it appeared to be too late – the Joker lay still and lifeless, smoke rising off him.

"Oh God, what have I done?" gasped Harley, racing over to him. "I just wanted my Joker back, but I might have lost him forever! I might have killed him! I didn't mean…I…Mr. J, please don't be dead!" she sobbed. "Please! I don't even care which personality you have – I just want you to come back to me! Come back! Oh, Mr. J!"

She burst into tears, hugging his body. The door opened at that moment and Dr. Leland stormed in. "I thought I heard noises coming from in here. What on earth is going on?"

She stared at Harley sobbing over Joker. "What have you done to him?" she asked, quietly.

"We…were trying to fix him," stammered Tetch. "And I'm afraid we've done something…irreparably wrong."

"To Joker?" said Dr. Leland. "He's already had something irreparably wrong done to him. That's how he became the Joker."

"Yes, and two wrongs don't make a right, do they?" asked Tetch, gently. "Harley, I'm so sorry…"

"It's not your fault," she whispered. "It's mine. You warned me it was dangerous, and I didn't listen. I just wanted my Mr. J back so bad…and now he's gone for good."

"Everyone, back to your cells," ordered Dr. Leland. They all shuffled out of the room, except for Harley, who just held Joker.

"Harley…" began Dr. Leland.

"Just leave me with him, Joan," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Just for a little while. So I can say goodbye. Please."

Dr. Leland sighed heavily. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she muttered, shutting the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Harley lay her head in the Joker's lap, tears trailing down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, puddin'," she whispered. "For everything. I never meant for any of this to happen – I never meant to hurt you in any way. Well, not _really_ hurt you, I mean – we hurt each other all the time, but that's just a joke, y'know…"

She trailed off. "I should have just stuck with the gangster Jack Napier personality," she murmured. "I mean, he was probably close enough, and anything's better than you being dead. But…even if I had him in your place, I would always miss my Joker. And now I always will. Any other version of you just isn't the same, it's not the same man I fell in love with. You were…special and unique. You were my Joker, and to me, there was only ever one version of you. There's no one else out there like you, not even your other personalities. And now you're gone. And it's all my fault. I won't ever forgive myself for what I've done. I…I'll be with you soon, wherever you've gone, because there's no point in living without you, no point in carrying on…"

She trailed off again with a sob. "Please, puddin'," she whispered. "Please, puddin', don't leave me. If you're gone, I'll never smile again. I can't bear that. I can't bear the thought of a life without you, a life without love and laughter, and my Joker gave me all of those things. He made my life worth living, and he made me into the woman I always should have been. I was hoping I could return the favor, but I should know by now I just screw everything up."

She removed the helmet and stroked his hair back gently. Her fingers trailed over the wound where her hammer had collided with his skull, and later his skull collided with the shower.

"Who woulda thought you had so many people in there with you?" she whispered. "Guess that's why you're crazy. But the only person I want among all those people is my Joker. My demented, abusive, psychotic maniac. My Clown Prince of Crime. My perfect man, and my true love."

A desperate, mad idea suddenly seized her, and she gently brought her lips down to Joker and kissed him tenderly. "True love's kiss," she murmured, drawing away at last. "It's meant to be miraculous. And I could sure use a miracle right about now."

She stared at him, looking for any signs of life, but her heart sank again as nothing happened. "Just my luck," she sighed. "I even screw up true love's kiss. What a crap joke."

She turned away, and then a familiar voice muttered, "That's not a joke."

She turned back, stunned, her heart leaping in hope. "Puddin'?" she gasped.

"It's not a joke," Joker repeated, glaring at her with his usual, bright green eyes. "But then I suppose I should expect disappointment from you by now, Harley. You always fail at everything, after all."

"You…you know who I am?" gasped Harley. "And…I'm dressed how you think I should be, and without tattoos?"

"You're dressed the way you're always dressed," he retorted. "Figures – you never doll yourself up for me. Compare my classy, effortless style with your same-old, same-old catsuit, and it's no wonder I'm by far the more popular character. And I don't want you getting tattoos – the only person who should be able to mark your body permanently is me. Like that scar I gave you over your heart. I mean, I guess you could get a tattoo for me – that'd be kinda romantic, putting yourself through indescribable pain for me. Nothing says love like sticking yourself with needles and going through agony for a superficial yet permanent gesture…"

"Oh, puddin'!" exclaimed Harley, launching herself into his arms. "Oh my God, it's really you!"

"Of course it's me!" he snapped, fighting to push her away as she covered him with desperate kisses. "Who the hell else would it be?"

"You don't remember?" she asked. "You weren't you – you were these other personalities, the first one was Jack Napier who was in love with his wife, but you killed her as Joker, and that tore you up, and then there was gangster Jack Napier, who I liked a lot better and who liked me too, and then there were other Jokers…"

"What the hell are you babbling about?" he demanded. "Jack Napier? Other Jokers? There's only one Joker, baby, and that's me!"

"I know, puddin'," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "And I'm so glad you're back. Oh, I knew true love's kiss would work! It's a miracle! We all thought you were dead!"

"Not surprising – when you take a guy to intensive therapy, they often don't come out alive," commented Joker, looking around. "What am I doing here? Last thing I remember is you and me getting into a fight on the roof of the factory. How did we get back to Arkham?"

"It's a really long story," said Harley. "And if I take the time to tell it to you, Dr. Leland's gonna come back and lock us up. Or we could beat it now and I'll tell you at the hideout."

"Not a difficult choice," said Joker, standing up and stretching. "Let's get outta here."

He winced, feeling the back of his head. "Jesus, that was quite a beating you gave me."

Harley beamed, kissing him. "You don't know the half of it, puddin'."

…

After Harley told Joker coherently what had happened to him, he disappeared from the hideout for a few hours. He returned that evening, taking off his coat and hat, and then rapping his fist on the back of his skull.

"All right, kiddo, take your best shot," he said, gesturing.

Harley stared at him. "Are you insane?" she demanded. "I'm never hitting you again! I can't risk that whole multiple personality identity crisis happening again!"

"Sweets, I promise, it'll be fine," he said. "Go ahead, punch me."

Harley glared at him. "I swear to God, if you go away again, I really will kill you on purpose," she muttered, raising her fist and striking a hard blow where Joker indicated. She yelped back with a cry, shaking her hand which burned in pain.

"What the hell did you do?" she demanded.

"Got Hush to install a metal plate," he said, knocking on his skull so that it made a low, clanging sound. "Just over that part of my skull, so that don't happen again in future. It'll be a bit of a hassle at airport security when you go through the metal detectors, I guess, but then they always seem to hassle me at airports. Can't imagine why."

He shrugged. "Anyway, I figure better safe than sorry. I don't wanna lose real me again, and I live a pretty violent life. Can't be too careful. Plus I wouldn't want you to be afraid of beating me up anymore – that would completely ruin our sex life."

He giggled. "Plus it's gonna be a great surprise for Bats when he tries to punch me there. Might break his little Bat-fist, and that'll teach him to ignore me the other night."

Harley smiled despite the pain in her hand. "It's so good to have you back, puddin'," she whispered, kissing him. "I missed you so much. I really couldn't stand most of the other guys, especially that first Jack Napier. God, he was such a tender, caring, sensitive lover - it was just awful."

Joker's smile fell slightly. "How…would you know what kinda lover he was?" he asked, quietly.

"Oh. Well, I slept with him, puddin'," Harley replied, shrugging. "He was distraught over his wife, so I thought I'd…make him feel better. I mean, it _was_ still you, so it's not cheating…"

"No, I…guess not," agreed Joker, slowly. "And if it was just the one time with a different version of me…"

He trailed off, looking at her. "It…was just the one time, right?"

Harley shuffled her feet. "Well, yeah, with that version of Jack Napier. But then the gangster Jack Napier appeared, and he was really kinda sexy, and really keen…"

"Oh my God, did you sleep with all of them?!" demanded Joker, suddenly furious.

"No!" snapped Harley. "And what would it matter if I did?! They're all still you! You can't be jealous of yourself!"

"The hell I can't!" he roared. "I disappear to be taken over by a buncha random personalities, and you decide to just get busy with 'em all? What, you want some more notches on your bedpost because sleeping with your professors in college wasn't enough, and this was a good excuse for you?!"

"I told you, I never slept with anyone in college!" shrieked Harley. "Or anyone but you ever! And that statement still stands! I love you, you idiot! You, in whatever form! But you like this is my only true love!"

"Well, you ain't my true love, you little tramp!" he snapped.

"Yes, I am, because that's the only way true love's kiss could have worked," retorted Harley. "It's if we're both each other's true love."

"There's no scientific basis that true love's kiss _did_ work!" snapped Joker. "I think Tetchy just didn't know how to read the machine! That, or I was temporarily dead and came back to life because of the electroshock…"

"Because of true love's kiss," repeated Harley.

Joker rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever," he muttered. "I have better things to do than argue with you. Like plan my next scheme for Bats."

"Oh, really, you're working tonight?" asked Harley, hopefully. "Because I was kinda hoping since you've been gone that you and me could have some playtime together…"

"You sound like you've had enough playtime since I've been gone," retorted Joker.

"Yeah, but not with my real Mr. J!" she snapped.

"So you admit you cheated!" he retorted.

"No, they were still you, just not the real you!" she shrieked. "I ain't never cheated, and I never would!"

"Right, so if you suddenly got another personality, and I slept with that Harley, you wouldn't be jealous at all?" he demanded.

"It's a moot point since I only got the one personality!" retorted Harley. "But no, I wouldn't be jealous of myself! That's crazy!"

"Well, I have been described as crazy before!" he snapped. "And now I'm gonna ask Tetchy to make a machine to give you another personality so I can do her and we can be even! I'll ask him to make her less annoying and nagging and clingy, which will be a welcome change! I might ask him never to let you come back!"

"Screw you, jerk!" shrieked Harley, slapping him hard across the face. He punched her in return, and the two were soon engaged in a full-scale fight which quickly moved to the bedroom.

"Puddin'?" asked Harley at last, leaning against his naked chest as he smoked a post-coital cigarette.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Do you think…any of those personalities are actually the real you?" she asked, slowly. "Like one of the Jack Napiers could actually be you before the accident, and maybe the real Joker is actually one of those other Jokers. I mean…how do you know that you're the real you?"

Joker blew out a cloud of smoke, and shrugged. "I don't, I guess. You know I don't remember my past, so my backstory could be any and all of those things. Or maybe they were stories I made up to tell the shrinks when they asked about my past, and I was just acting 'em out subconsciously. You're the shrink – you tell me what happened."

"I don't really know," murmured Harley.

"Then do what I do – don't try to know," he replied. "Just pick the backstory you like best. Hell, just pick the Joker you like best."

Harley grinned. "It's this one," she said, cuddling him. "I like this one the best."

He patted her head. "That's how I know I'm the real one," he whispered. "What's the Joker without his Harley Quinn? I mean, besides incredibly handsome, hilarious, talented, intelligent, fashionable, classy, amazing…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it," interrupted Harley, smiling and kissing him.

He put out his cigarette. "Now go to sleep, Harley."

"How are you gonna sleep with so many people in there?" she asked, snuggling against him and stroking his hair back.

"I usually manage," he replied.

"How many do you think you got?" she asked.

"I dunno," he said. "Lots. Probably an infinite number, really. New ones join all the time, I suspect. And I suspect they always will. Best not to think about it. That only feeds them. Best to just focus on the here and now, and not try to worry about what's real and what's not. Best just to have a little fun."

"Mmm, we're good at that, puddin'," murmured Harley, burrowing into his arms and shutting her eyes.

"We sure are, sweets," he murmured. "We sure are."

Just before he dropped off to sleep, on the hazy, thin knife-edge between dreaming and waking, the Joker thought he heard the whispering of other voices in his head, some of them dimly remembered echoes of a past he could never fully recall, and some of them fictional creations of his fevered brain. It didn't matter, really, the reality of any of them, or if they were all figments of some dream. They were all the Joker, or maybe none of them were. The Joker didn't worry too much about his own identity – that was for the shrinks to fuss over. The only thing that mattered to him was having a little fun. And whatever else these other personalities were, they all shared that in common.

 **The End**


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